


Tooth and Nail

by cherryvanilla



Series: Falling Further In [1]
Category: West Wing
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You find somebody to love in this world, you'd better hang on, tooth and nail." Post-ep to "Somebody's Going to Emergency, Somebody's Going to Jail" Written 3/5/01</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tooth and Nail

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So I'm waiting outside his office.

I know it's the last thing he wants. But I also know he's secretly hoping for it to happen.

And he was hoping for me to do it on my own so he didn't have to say the words.

Hey, I'm down with that.

So, here I wait--

My face pressed carefully against the door, close enough to know he's talking to someone, but still too far to hear. Not like I need to. I'd bet my job that he's speaking to his father.

My best friend has had a pretty shitty week. And I've basically been keeping tabs on him. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have let him out of my sight. But, this is The Real World. And in The Real World, life may stop for us, but we can't stop for life. This is something I've experienced first hand. Sure, it sucks, but it happens.

That said, I still hate that it's happened to Sam.

So I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And he finally hangs up. And he shuffles around his office. And I move back away from the door. And when he opens it, our eyes meet; His: tired and resigned, mine: compassionate and worried.

"I told you to go ahead."

"I know."

Sam sighs and we start to walk down the hall.

"How'd it go?" I ask tentatively.

"As well as could be expected. I mean he's my father, Josh. I know that. I'm just going to have to work through this. Together, with him."

I place a hand on his shoulder and think about saying something, but apparently that action has said it all since he is now looking my way with a warm smile on his face.

"If you don't mind-- I'm not really in the mood to go out tonight."

"But--"

Sam stops, and I do as well. "Josh. Really. I appreciate it, but honestly the thought of being sociable or in out in public right now is the last thing I want to do."

"Understandable."

"Will Toby and Donna be disappointed?"

"Nah. It was all just to get you drunk anyway."

Sam nods and we continue walking till we're out the building and standing in the parking lot, facing each other.

"How about getting drunk at my place?"

Sam raises his eyebrows at me for the second time in almost an hour, and now I'm completely convinced he doesn't realize how sexy it is.

Yes, I just called Sam Seaborn sexy. I may often be blind but I'm not dead.

"Well, it all depends on the kind of liquor you have, of course."

He's smiling, and for the first time in days it finally reaches his eyes.

"Only the best for the best," I quip back, smiling as well.

"You do wonders for my ego, Josh."

"Like hell, man. I was talking about me!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As we drive, Sam looks out the window, seemingly hypnotized by the passing lights. He's silent so I decide to be too. The only noise is the low hum of the radio.

My cell phone rings when we're about a block away from my apartment. It's Toby, wondering where the hell we are. I tell him, and he swears he'll get back at me for this. I laugh dryly, and then tell him and Donna to have fun getting drunk without us.

Sam barely acknowledges the conversation and when I park the car and turn to him, I suddenly realize just how tired he really is.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea. I can take you home."

"You seem to forget this is my car."

I sigh. "O-kay, then you can crash here. Minus the alcohol."

"I'm fine, Josh. I just want to forget for a while."

*I'll make you forget.*

My treacherous brain will never learn.

Shaking my head, as if to rid the thought, I get out of the car. Sam follows behind me.

We enter my apartment and he immediately claims the far corner of the couch.

I walk into the kitchen, grab the bottle of Scotch and two glass tumblers, and join him. His head had fallen back and his eyes had dropped shut. When he opens them and turns to me, he looks so lost and confused. My hand has a white knuckled grip on the bottle-- it's all I can do to keep from taking him in my arms.

Sam nods gratefully when I had him the glass of liquid. He downs it in one shot. I do the same with mine, not wanting to be outdone. I pour us each another glass. We down those too.

Sam leans back against the cushions and I follow, close enough to feel the warmth of his body.

He chews his lip thoughtfully, pinches the bridge of his nose, runs a hand through his thick mop of hair.

He looks completely undone.

I touch his shoulder once again, and the floodgates open. Suddenly, I'm wrapped up in an armful of Sam Seaborn, his head on my shoulder, his hands running up my back, and the soft snuffling sound of his tears pressed against my throat.

I freeze for a moment, trying to take this all in, then start to respond. I murmur words of encouragement. I hug him tightly to my chest, and I feel my own tears dropping into hair, because this is Sam, and he's devastating.

I wonder briefly if he felt this way after my Christmas Breakdown. And instantly know he must have. He was there for me then. I'm here now.

"God, Josh."

I almost don't recognize his voice. There's so much pain..

I want to wipe it away.

I want to wash it away.

"I know, Sam. I know."

"why?"

I question is barely audible, and I guess that makes it all the more heartbreaking.

I don't know. I just don't know.

But I don't want to say that. I hate that fucking response.

So I hold him tighter. I run my fingers almost violently through his hair, needing to be closer; needing him to know I'm here.

He moans softly and presses against me more. I feel like he's trying to burrow himself into me.

My mouth is against his temple and I give into the urge and brush my lips against him. It's a soft kiss, one that could be easily seen as a Comforting Guy Kiss.

It's a safe kiss.

So when Sam kisses my throat next, and lingers there, I'm considerably thrown for a loop.

I sigh and hold him closer still; afraid to think were this is going. His hand is still moving across the expanse of my back, but now with a deliberate sexual purpose. My body is reacting to the friction, to his hands, to his lips.

How can I be expected to do The Right Thing? The Right Thing being ending this with a friendly pat on the back and moving to my bedroom. Alone.

"Josh?"

Should've known that Sam would catch on quick.

"Uh, yeah."

"Josh-- please."

I gather up all my self-control and pull back bit, to look in his eyes.

Damn, fuckingshit. Bad move.

They're clouded with need and desire and sadness.

"Sam, this--"

"Please, Josh."

I sigh and drop my head. "This is a bad idea."

"Probably."

I stare at him. "It's the worst, Sam."

"Undeniably."

I smile faintly. "It's such a good idea."

"It really is."

"Why'd it take you so damn long to come up with it?"

"I'm clueless like that."

"Apparently."

Sam starts to move closer to me. I hold him off with a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Definit--"

"I mean it's not just because.." I wave my hand vaguely in the air. "I mean, given the circum--"

"I won't hate you in the morning, if that's what you're asking Josh."

*Yeah, but will you still want me.*

I leave that unasked. Partly because I'm not sure myself if I even want him to. Despite what we've said, both of us know this isn't the smartest thing in the world to do.

But fuck smart.

Just-- fuck it.

"I've thought of it before."

I look up at him and quirk an eyebrow.

He gestures between our bodies. "Us. This. I've thought of it."

"Oh. Well, good."

Sam moves in slowly. I nod imperceptibly. And then he's in my arms again. So warm against me. I moan against his neck, and then allow my tongue to taste.

I sigh.

Sam.

His mouth has found a comfortable spot, nibbling at my earlobe. After a few moments of subsequent nibbling, we pull away to face each other. Sam is inches away from me. I raise my hand and rest it on face. And then we both move at once, and I'm tasting Sam. Tasting his lips, his tongue, all that is he.

Kissing Sam is like an electrical storm. And he's so focused on what he's doing. What he's doing to me.

To. Me.

God.

I crush him to my body and he lets out a deep moan. I shift on the couch until I'm practically sitting in his lap. We shift our legs around until we're comfortable and manage to get our groins to brush together. Sam gasps and breaks away.

"Josh..."

His voice is a breathless moan and I almost come right there.

I stand on unsteady legs and offer him my hand.

"Let's go."

He looks at me for a second then curls his fingers around mine. We walk silently into the bedroom, and Sam never takes his eyes off of me.

Standing at the foot of the bed, we undress each other, kissing and groping the whole time. Sam is desperate with need by the time I push him back on the bed and remove his pants and boxers.

I step out of mess pooled around my feet that is my pants and underwear, and then I stare at him. Sam Seaborn, spread out on my bed, shaking with desire.

The man should come with a warning. Danger: I might make you come before you even touch me.

Sam folds his arms under his head and looks at me expectantly. I climb on the bed, on top of him. His arms come around me immediately and he holds me close, something he's done a lot of tonight. I touch him everywhere I can reach. And soon we are exploring each other's bodies with our hands and then our mouths, as Sam rolls me over and attacks my throat, my nipples, my chest.

I do the same to him.

He moans and stretches out beneath me. I take my time exploring his body. When I bite his nipples he screams and plunges fingers into my hair.

Then I begin to rock my erection against his. His head tips back. I suck at his throat. We thrust franticly together.

And then I hear it.

Soft crying, tears against my skin.

"Oh Sam."

He clutches at my back.

"Don't let me go, Josh."

I kiss his lips, his eyes. "I won't. I won't."

Sam kisses me deep and hard. I move my hand between us and begin stroking.

He gasps against my lips and shudders. A few more thrusts and we are coming all over my hand and our bodies.

As we settle into the afterglow, I hold his feverish body to mine. I lick at his tears-- imagining that I could wash away the pain with that single action.

He moans appreciatively then and even allows me to get up for a moment to clean us off.

When I return he is smiling up at me. He looks content.

I tug at the blanket and cover us with it. Sam curls into my chest like it is his home.

I rub his back, and hear the last of his sniffles fade away.

For a few moments we are silent. Enjoying this moment of calmness in our hectic lives.

"I love you," he says as he moves closer still.

It isn't some surprising declaration. Not for him to make, nor for me to hear. It is simply an affirmation of something both of us have known for years.

"I love you, too."

It was home.

"Don't leave."

"I won't," I whisper, as I watch him drift into a peaceful slumber.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

END

**Lyin' here in the darkness   
You hear the sirens wail   
Somebody goin' to an emergency   
Somebody's goin' to jail   
You find somebody to love in this world, you'd better hang on tooth and nail  
The wolf is always at the door

In a New York minute   
Everything can change   
In a New York minute   
Things can get a little strange   
In a New York minute   
Everything can change   
In a New York minute**


End file.
